Exceptional Night
by Alchemechanist
Summary: An unexpected visit, interrupting his alone, cold Christmas Eve, stopping him from watching the snow fall and the world go by as it had without him.


**I was meaning to submit this Christmas Eve, but the computer was being glitchy. Oh well. Late Christmas present, anyone?**

**Set between The Lost Colony and The Time Paradox.**

* * *

It was an exceptional night. Twenty rich, well-mannered people sat in the Fowl parlor, give or take a few. Fine wine was poured; small talk and discussions of economy and stocks were exchanged over the roar of the fire in the hearth. Periodically the men would laugh, and the wives would smile and the fire would swell as merriment rose through the hall. Despite the picturesque snowfall out the window, the glass-like frost lit by moonlight, and a wave of silvery powder coating the lawn, it was warm inside, allowing men and women alike to shed their coats and gloves for the pleasure of feeling the proximity of controlled flames warming their skin.

It was late, closer to the morning than it was to the evening. The children were in bed, the lights reduced just to dim oil lamps and firelight, casting a romantic glow over the evening. The little party was likely to end soon; it was Christmas Eve, after all, and there was work to be done to surprise the youngest children of the house in the morning.

But Artemis Fowl II was not enjoying the festivities.

23:30 found him standing on the back porch, clad snugly in a black pea coat to ward off the wintry air. If he had been visible from the windows of the parlor, the guests would have wondered what had compelled the pale boy to wander into the cold, where his breath fogged around his lips and flakes of pure white snow took refuge in his dark hair. He had always been a strange boy, but he stood as if perfectly comfortable in the sub-freezing temperatures, his eyes locked on something faraway.

But the parlor guests had not noticed the lone boy on the back porch, and if they had they would most likely have not noticed that though his eyes were trained on the woods in the distance, they were not focused. In fact, Artemis Fowl's eyes were not even registering anything they saw, for his mind was thousands of miles away, undisturbed by the occasional gales of laughter that could be only just be heard through the night. And so he did not seem to realize that, as his ears took in quiet footsteps in the snow behind him, that there was somebody close, watching him intently.

"Good evening, Mr. Fowl."

If she had been able to see his eyes, Minerva Paradizo would have acutely noticed the change in sharpness as he was brought back to where he stood. Instead he chose to stay facing the way he was, looking out into nowhere, imagining what stood behind him.

"Ms. Paradizo. We meet again, at long last." She did not reply immediately and so he turned, observing the sharp, slim young woman before him. She, in turn, watched him with unbiased gray eyes as he took in the three years she had gained while he had remained static. While she would not be called exceptionally beautiful, Minerva's cheekbones had become high and defined and her jaw line more square, and had developed a mature aura around her face that was certainly appealing. She had her smooth blond curls tucked under a gray knit cap, the coils catching the snowflakes that fell peacefully through the air.

"My God, what Butler said was true," she said, relearning his face, her eyes tracing his features. "You have not aged a day. Fascinating."

"You on the other hand…"

"Yes, life has certainly moved on without you, hasn't it?" She placed her gloved hands inside the pockets of her overcoat. "I do believe, if I may say so, that that certainly puts things in perspective for you. Am I right?"

"Right in saying that I have realized the world does not revolve around me? Absolutely." He sat on the cedar railing of the porch, gesturing to the space beside him. She hesitated, and then sat next to him. "I feel as though a few hours passed between when I left and when I returned. Then I learned that the world had somehow continued without Artemis Fowl."

"I cannot even imagine it."

"Too many things have changed," Artemis continued with a sigh, his breath swirling around his face. "I simply can't find any of my niches again. Family, social… mental as well."

"May I help in any way?"

"Come now, Minerva, we both know I am just as accomplished in psychology as you are. If I needed help I would do it myself."

"Actually," she said, standing again, her boots scuffing the snow over the stone of the porch as she began to pace a little. "I've been busy in the time you've been away. I wonder if I may bring a little clarity to your mind."

For the first time, the corner of Artemis's lips flicked up. "You may try, if it amuses you."

Minerva raised a steely eyebrow at his tone. "Believe me when I say I have changed much in your absence, Artemis. After a few weeks of obsessing over when you would return, I let you go, accepting that it had been my fault, and realizing that fussing over it was never going to accomplish anything. Despite your absence, I was still competing against you in many things. The list of accomplishments is endless, but there are some I feel you should know, if you have not discovered them yourself. As I recall, you were fourteen when you stole _The Fairy Thief. _Am I correct in thinking this?"

"Minerva, you didn't."

Minerva shrugged. "A museum? How simple. Why not keep it for yourself? More likely than not, it would have been safer here, in your home." She sighed, absently fingering an end of her hair. "I won my Nobel Prize after all, in Medicine. I brought a shattering breakthrough in cancer research, having to do with angiogenesis and metastases." She shook her head, dismissing that train of thought. "It did not feel nearly as good as I thought it would. Despite forgiving myself, I was plagued with guilt on that stage, accepting my award, thinking 'Artemis died for this prize.'"

"A different category, but a Nobel is a Nobel, I suppose."

She ignored his sarcasm, trekking on in her speech. "After that, I traveled to Portugal with my father, and there…" She smiled a bit, though it seemed wistful. "There I met a boy." She stopped pacing the porch, looking instead past Artemis and into the darkness. "His name was Danilo Cruz, and he was brilliant. He preferred to use his genius for good, and kept it away from fame and corruption. He lived in Valenca, a small town, and had reformed the agricultural system in many ways — trade, irrigation, pesticides — name anything, and he had taken care of it. His town thrived, thanks to him. I was fascinated."

"You fell in love. An accomplishment to you?"

"I did not," she said sharply, "fall in love with Danilo. He was nine."

Artemis inclined his head, a few stray snowflakes slipping away from his hair. "My apologies."

"I stayed there longer than expected, just watching him, and realizing that it was possible to have amazing intellect and many friends at the same time. Everyone loved him. He was something of a savior to them." She brought her focus away from the darkness and snow, choosing to look at Artemis instead. "And I realized that the most important thing in life was not riches or discoveries or Nobel prizes. It was happiness, and though this all may seem very cliché to you, that is my Christmas gift." She watched him intently, knowing from experience that the blank façade that was over his face was nothing more than that — a façade. "I am going inside to join the festivities — my father has already greeted your parents and is no doubt drinking the night away. Good night, Artemis Fowl."

He watched her turn and leave, leaving a trail of footprints and an unorthodox Christmas gift behind her.

"Good night, Minerva Paradizo," he replied to the softly falling snowflakes. "Good night."


End file.
